


An Increasing Intimacy

by goseaward



Category: Society of Gentlemen - K. J. Charles
Genre: M/M, One of My Favorites, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:13:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22018453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goseaward/pseuds/goseaward
Summary: David and Richard, before everything.
Relationships: David Cyprian/Richard Vane
Comments: 6
Kudos: 53





	An Increasing Intimacy

**Author's Note:**

> The endnotes contain clarifications on what I assumed for certain canon events, since there's a lack of detail on some minor points that are nonetheless important for this story!
> 
> With thanks to Vae for the betaing/Britpicking/general comments. All remaining mistakes are my own.

_December 1815_

"Good evening, Cyprian," Lord Richard greeted David as he entered the bedchamber where David had been waiting.

"Good evening, my lord," David said. "I trust your outing was enjoyable?" According to the footman, he had come back with a select few of his intimates--Mr Frey, of course, and Mr Webster and Sir Absalom Lockwood. Despite David's expectations for Lord Richard's long social evening, however, Lord Richard had come upstairs only an hour later.

Lord Richard came to stand by the dressing-table and held out his arms slightly, so David could slide behind him on soft feet and draw the coat from his shoulders. The difference in their heights was noticeable this way, and faintly pleasurable. "Indeed," Lord Richard said. "I am very fortunate in the character of my companions." David hung the coat and adjusted the fabric until it fell properly. "I have arranged a ride with Mr Norreys tomorrow morning at eleven o'clock, by the way, Cyprian."

"Of course, my lord, I will notify the grooms." He came back to Lord Richard and started undoing the cravat, still neatly folded and pristine--as though any clothing would dare defy both David's precision and Lord Richard's propriety. 

"We were drinking a very nice claret downstairs. As we finished early, I believe there are at least two glasses left in the bottle"--Lord Richard looked at him with a twinkle in his eye, a sight that still stole David's breath--"should some enterprising servant care to rescue it."

"None in this house would dream of such a thing, my lord," David said, letting a thread of amusement into his voice and face. 

"Of course." The cravat came loose in David's hand, and he pulled the cloth away. Lord Richard's neck, underneath, was darkening with the first shade of stubble, though David had shaved him again this evening before dinner. In another house, in another life, David might have put his tongue there to feel it; he was sure, after four months in Lord Richard's employ, after what Zoë had told him about Lord Richard's friends, that Lord Richard's tastes ran to men as David's did. If only David's scant uncertainty on the matter was the sole barrier between them. David moved his hands to the waistcoat buttons. "Sir Absalom has a fascinating case at the moment. Do you have an interest in the law, Cyprian?"

"No, my lord," David murmured. The waistcoat parted under his hands, the borrowed warmth of Lord Richard's skin rising from the fine linen underneath. "Except as necessary to serve my lord, of course."

At that, Lord Richard's mouth curved in a smile, a real one that crinkled his eyes--not the society smile. Lord Richard was a nearly impossible temptation. "Then I shan't bore you with the details."

"My lord is never boring," David said with perfect honesty, turning to hang the waistcoat as well. Behind him, he heard and ignored the sounds of Lord Richard exchanging shirt for nightshirt: he didn't trust himself to look without staring when Lord Richard was in a mood like this.

"If I did not know you better, Cyprian, I might think you were jesting at my expense," Lord Richard said. David had too much control to turn sharply, but he did move so he could see Lord Richard's face again--the nightshirt already on, thank God--and he did not look either angry or disappointed. "But you are far too clever for that. If you were jesting at my expense I think I should not know it."

A compliment, then, if a sideways one. "My lord," David said with all the sincerity he felt he could show to someone with Lord Richard's correctness of manners, "I would leave your employ before I would jest at your expense, in that manner or any other way."

"That is appreciated, Cyprian," Lord Richard said in his deep voice. He seated himself at the dressing-table. "May I tell you about Mr Norreys' ensemble tonight? I believe you will find it as...refreshing...as I."

"With pleasure, my lord," David said, knowing he was grinning, and let Lord Richard tell him as they finished his toilette before bed.

* * *

_January 1816_

His afternoon off found him visiting with Jon and Will as they prepared for their night's work. He was currently mending a ripped seam in Jon's coat. David disliked idleness, and Will and Jon, while happy to see him, were engaged in an ongoing discussion about the ill manners of one of their employees that interested David only in its general commentary on human nature and not in its particulars, as he did not know the man in question.

"So, are you planning to approach him, then?" he said at a moment carefully calculated to cause maximal uproar. He was getting slightly bored. While they were not starving by any means, Jon and Will did not have the income to be as choosy in their staff as they would like, so this sort of problem was unfortunately common.

He was rewarded by having both Jon and Will turn to look at him with identical expressions of horror. "You are touched in the head, Foxy," Jon said.

"Anyway, he's the size of a bull," Will said. "I already have one of those, what would I do with another? I could introduce you," he added slyly.

Damn, that was a misstep. The last thing David needed was Will and Jon wondering why David wasn't interested in his usual dalliances. "As if I would lower myself to someone who worked at your establishment," he said.

Jon let out a crack of laughter. "Good one," he said. "Well, you can lower yourself on Will any time, I'll watch."

David spent a few moments considering the many possibilities that would fit that description, letting his fingers automatically fasten off the thread at the end of the repaired seam. Will hummed to himself, obviously engaged in the same speculations. 

"Do you still like your new position, then?" Jon asked when he'd apparently had enough of the silence.

"Yes, extremely." David stood and held up the coat; Jon turned and David slid the garment on as he spoke, checking that the fabric laid flat across the repair. Of course it did. David was very good. "Lord Richard makes an excellent display of a valet's work. And he has allowed me to act as a go-between in small matters with the other staff, as I prefer, so I have found plenty to keep me busy." He pulled the coat off again and went to hang it in Jon and Will's wardrobe.

"And is his _entire_ set mollies, or just most of them?" Will inquired.

It was difficult to avoid that sort of knowledge if one was a man who liked men and if one of one's closest friends ran the most high-rent molly-house in London; the topic had been a source of speculation even before David took his current position, and seemed to be something of a hobby-horse now. But Lord Richard had his rules about privacy, and David had his own code as a valet. He let his face fall into its perfect blankness and said, "I couldn't possibly comment," and was satisfied when they both laughed at him and let the matter drop.

Four nights later, Lord Richard was in something of a temper as David undressed him. Not directed _at David_ , of course; simply in general.

After Lord Richard gave a third terse reply to David's attempts at small talk and then stripped off his shirt with harsh movements that made David check the seams for strain, David finally asked, "Do you wish to speak about your evening, my lord?"

This seemed to strike Lord Richard with unusual force. "I apologise, Cyprian," he said. "You have done nothing wrong. I am sorry that I am so ill-tempered."

"Please do not apologise, my lord. I merely wondered if I might be of assistance."

Lord Richard appeared to ponder this as David helped him remove his breeches. By the time David had stored the garments and Lord Richard had seated himself near the mirror, still a substantial fraction of David's height in the position, he was speaking again. "I had a trying evening," he said. "Francis--Mr Webster--has an ongoing feud with the Duke of Warminster's youngest son, Lord Gabriel. Julius had to remove Frances from the gaming-tables after Lord Gabriel challenged him to a third game of piquet; it is unseemly to take the lad's money when the difference in skill is so great."

"How fortunate that Mr Norreys effected an intervention," David murmured as he started to rub a nightly unguent into Lord Richard's jawline and neck. He suffered from occasional ingrown hairs, although this was improving already with David's excellent skill with a blade, and David was intent on effecting a cure before much longer. 

"Yes, but it was a trial. We needed an excuse to remove him so I declared my intention to move to another club. But Quex's is quite the most comfortable place with a gaming table that meets Francis's standards. And then, of course, Lord Maltravers was at the next club we tried, so we felt we had to leave even before we had removed our hats. I am so tired of Ashleighs, Cyprian," Lord Richard said suddenly and frankly. 

His attention to Lord Richard's face completed, David moved on to brushing Lord Richard's hair, using the change to cover a moment of thought. Lord Richard never rushed him, either with thoughts or with his duties, which he appreciated deeply. "Do you simply need to keep Mr Webster apart from the Duke of Warminster's sons, my lord?"

"No, no. That would be easily enough done, if we wanted to risk some disapproval," Lord Richard said. "But last week we had trouble with an old acquaintance of Julius's youth." David took this to mean a former lover. "We all have our occasional peccadilloes, Cyprian. But my friends..." He trailed off and then continued thoughtfully, "I have many friends with delicate concerns. Dominic's work for the Home Office, of course, and Absalom's cases, and my own concerns as Cirencester's second, to name but a few. Too often we must choose between a house party with only ourselves, but enough privacy for these delicate matters, or a social evening with the ton, but no chance to address subjects that require discretion. It is a difficult balance."

"So it seems, my lord," David said. He had finished Lord Richard's toilette, but Lord Richard did not seem inclined to dismiss him yet, and his mind was whirling, working through the problem. He came around to stand face-to-face with Lord Richard, so they might more easily converse. "So you need something in between. A social location, with others besides your closest intimates, but the ability to withdraw into private conference when necessary."

"Precisely, Cyprian!" Lord Richard said, with relief in his voice. "You have understood what I could not articulate. Thank you."

"Might a relationship with the proprietor of a club or gambling hell allow you that flexibility?" David continued, still thinking. "Some private location near a more public venue."

"Does such a place exist?" Lord Richard said. "At, ah, a level of comfort that might be expected by my friends. I am sure the private rooms of a club's staff are pleasant and well-kept, but they may not be suitable for gentlemen."

"I am sure something could be arranged, my lord," David said, "particularly if you were willing to fund the furnishing of such a space, in order that you might have the use of it."

Lord Richard thought this over. "That is an intriguing idea, Cyprian," he said. "But it sounds almost like...a joint business arrangement of some kind. I would need to discuss it with Cirencester."

David nodded. "It need not be public, my lord. You might simply be seen to favor a certain gambling hell or club above all others, and any increased prosperity would be explained by your patronage of the establishment's regular business, rather than through your direct support."

"I would still need to have discussions with the owner," Lord Richard said, not in any apparent attempt to argue with David, more in the nature of a man mulling a problem. "That would hardly be missed by the gossip-mongers."

There, in front of him, a thread to seize, a task to assume. "My lord," David said, daringly, "might I act as your go-between in this?" Lord Richard looked surprised, but not appalled, so David continued. "I am known already to some of the men you might wish to approach, and I am not remarkable, merely a servant. My goings would not be a subject of public comment. I would, of course, make no commitments without your explicit approval," he continued, "but I would be very happy to serve you in this way, if you desired me to do so, my lord."

"Cyprian, you are a marvel," Lord Richard said. David smiled, though not nearly as widely as he wanted to, at the warm approval in Lord Richard's voice. "That would do very well indeed, if you believe you would have the time to do it? I do not wish to overburden you. And--I imagine this would be in the nature of ongoing support, not merely a one-time payment for some chairs or what have you," Lord Richard added, in the vagueness of a man who had never had to furnish anything.

"Yes, my lord, I agree entirely," David said. "I believe I will have the time--it should not take so very long, or require _much_ maintenance after the initial agreement is settled."

"That is wonderful. I thank you deeply," Lord Richard said. "Do you have some establishments in mind? You said you know some of the proprietors already."

"I will draw up a list to see what options meet with your approval, my lord." Jon and Will would be at the top, of course, and David carefully kept his face in an expression of mild pleasure rather than the deep satisfaction he felt at so neatly killing two birds with one stone--Lord Richard's needs, Will and Jon's precarious situation. He was entirely sure that Lord Richard could be influenced to choose them if David put his mind to the influencing.

"Excellent. This is truly a weight off my mind, Cyprian." Lord Richard smiled at him and then David had to keep his face mild for an entirely different reason. "Thank you for talking this matter over with me. Now I should like to retire, and I am sure you would as well."

"Of course, my lord," David said, and bowed, and left, with his mind still whirling over plans and finances and, vaguely, at the back of his thoughts, Lord Richard, always Lord Richard.

* * *

_September 1816_

David chose a night he was maintaining Lord Richard's nails to raise the issue, as he wanted Lord Richard as relaxed as possible for the conversation, and having his hands attended to was obviously a pleasure to him. "My lord," David began carefully as he trimmed Lord Richard's broad strong nails, "I have a matter of some delicacy to discuss with you."

Looking suddenly attentive, Lord Richard said, "Yes, Cyprian?"

"It is about one of the Ricardians. I am worried he is in some danger."

The quality of Lord Richard's attention changed. "Some danger? What do you mean?"

"I observed him at an establishment called Millay's, engaging in conduct that carried even more risk than the usual business of the house."

Surely, by now, David's tastes could not be news to Lord Richard: he was as discreet as any man could be, but a year in Lord Richard's employ, in his bedroom every night, and David knew that his eyes had sometimes lingered more than excusable. The choice of words--that he himself had observed it--was intended to make his preferences clear, if they were not already.

Lord Richard looked at David. "You know," he said, "that I trust you very much, Cyprian. I deeply appreciate the service you provide to me, and I am the envy of every man in London due to your care."

"Thank you, my lord," David said.

He met David's eyes very deliberately. "I have not ever graced the door of Millay's...establishment."

"Of course not, my lord." The very idea was impossible, regardless of what David knew of his master's preferences.

"But I am aware of what I might find there. Do we understand each other?"

"We do, my lord, yes."

"And of course I expect the utmost discretion in this. Moreso than even my other business, and you know how seriously I take my privacy."

"Absolutely, my lord."

"I am grateful, Cyprian, that we are in agreement. And I hope you know that my discretion would be returned, should any such discretion be required. For any servant, but especially for you, and especially for this subject."

David let his face hold its blankness for a moment while his brain processed that extraordinary statement. "That is very kind of you, my lord. I thank you."

"It is no matter," Lord Richard said, "not between us. That is what I mean."

"So it shall be."

"I did not know what I did the day I hired you, Cyprian. But I can only be grateful to my earlier self, that I had enough sense to do so."

"I am, as always, thankful for the position, my lord."

"Yes." Lord Richard smiled. "So. Millay's. What is the issue?"

David busied himself a moment with the nail file, so he could think how to word this; he had entirely lost his train of thought in the ensuing conversation. "I am concerned. Especially with the sort of partner that the gentleman selected. Of course Millay's is as discreet as such a place may be, and the patrons wear dominos in the public areas, but it is not enough, if a person is already known to the viewer."

"As Dominic is to you," Lord Richard said. David glanced up in surprise; Lord Richard looked unhappy. "It was Dominic, was it not? I know a number of the Ricardians frequent Millay's"--David was knocked sideways, again, by that casual admission, that Lord Richard would say it to him, though of course it was well-known to David by now--"but I do not think you would trouble yourself to tell me about anyone else but Dominic. Am I correct?"

"Yes, my lord. I did see Mr Frey."

"Let me think," Lord Richard said. David had filed three more nails before he said, "Millay's is as discreet as it may be, you say. Can it be made more so?"

David's head had been full of plans, but they had all centred around how Mr Frey might be persuaded to stay out. "I expect so, my lord, with an increase in the running costs." Bribes to the local constables, of course, and the neighbours, and to raise the wages of the staff so that none could be bought the way David had started to buy informants where needed. A few more staff of the burly sort, to remove those causing trouble before trouble was brought to the door. A retainer to Zoë in respect of her position and influence--at another house that might work to sweeten the deal for a reluctant partner, but he and Zoë had known each other as children and this would be more in the line of a professional courtesy. All rather like what he had done for Jon and Quex, and all, of course, things that Lord Richard should not know and would not care to know.

"Of course. My purse should stretch so far." For Mr Frey, of course, it would. David liked Mr Frey rather against his will, given the ache of jealousy he felt whenever he was reminded of his closeness with Lord Richard--not a feeling David should indulge, but one with which he, nevertheless, had made good company this last year.

"I will look into it this week and give you a more precise tally."

"Thank you, Cyprian," Lord Richard said. "I thank you as well for bringing this to my attention. I am not unaware of the risk doing so posed for you."

"Thank you, my lord," David returned. It was less of a risk in one way than Lord Richard might have assumed: he had been there to visit friends and not partake of the house's business, but he did not feel particularly comfortable revealing to Lord Richard exactly why and how he was friends with Zoë or, for that matter, Jon. What a strange confluence, that in this house it should be safer to be assumed to be fucking strange men than to admit being the acquaintance of a particular woman.

* * *

_June 1818_

For the first time since he had accepted employment in the house, David had to brace himself as he entered Lord Richard's room.

He'd had occasion to visit Quex's that day, which meant he'd had occasion to hear Jon and Will's ribald jokes about exactly who had spent the night together in the private rooms the previous night, when David had been excused his evening duties for lack of his master's presence. He couldn't begrudge them the gossip: they kept Lord Richard's secrets as tightly as any of his employees, which meant David was usually their only option for chatter. David had made his usual half-hearted suppressive remarks, and then he had left as quickly as possible, to silently curse at the air as he made his way back to Albemarle Street.

Mr Norreys? The man was well-bred ice, as far from David's own base-bornearthiness as he could imagine. If that was Lord Richard's preference...

It was pure madness to be angry about this, or whatever emotion David was feeling. David himself still fucked--not as frequently as he had done before he'd met Lord Richard, but with some regularity; he was not a monk (indeed he had _had_ a monk, or at least a religious man, one rather memorable night almost a decade previously--it had always seemed an odd metaphor to David, as the monastery was no guarantee of chastity or temperance). It might mean nothing. Might simply be a release of tension. After all, Lord Richard, as far as he could tell, had not taken any of his friends to bed since David had entered his employment. His infrequent dalliances, as far as David was aware of them, had all been single nights with men not often in London. 

But did that not argue that this must be significant, to break a pattern of behaviour after almost two years?

David must not think of this. David must make sure the room was tidy, and the right temperature, with his master's nightclothes laid out. It wouldn't even be the first time he had been in the room with Lord Richard since he'd spent the night with Mr Norreys: he'd been called for his duties that morning when Lord Richard had returned, and had assumed his lord had simply drunk too much the night before. Lord Richard's mood had certainly suited that conclusion, malcontent and silent, which in itself was curious. Had his demeanour been the fault of Lord Richard's activities, or was David newly objectionable?

Torturing himself did no good, but David's mind liked problems to work on, and this was a problem indeed, with no solution nor answers to be found until Lord Richard himself returned.

Luckily, though somewhat surprisingly, this did not take long: Lord Richard came in a scant half hour after the bell had rung to let David know he was home. David knew he'd had correspondence to deal with before bed; he must have done nothing else but answer letters before he came up.

"Cyprian, good evening," Lord Richard said, and went to stand by the mirror as usual.

"Good evening, my lord," Cyprian said. He was grateful that the particulars of Lord Richard's nightly routine were as second nature to him now as the general duties of a valet, because he was damned if he could devote his mind to them fully tonight. "How has your day been?" If they had been friends only, and not master and servant, he might have made a truthful comment about how he had missed their usual conversation the night before. But that was not appropriate for a valet, who served at his master's pleasure.

"I have had better days," Lord Richard replied, and David was grateful to be standing at the wardrobe with Lord Richard's coat in hand, because his heartbeat picked up so loudly he thought Lord Richard might have noticed had his hands been anywhere near Lord Richard's body.

He said only, "I am sorry to hear that, my lord."

"Tell me, Cyprian," Lord Richard said as Cyprian returned to him and began working on his cravat and waistcoat. "What do you do when you feel you have made a mistake?"

"I try to avoid them," Cyprian said, expecting and receiving a flicker of a smile from Lord Richard. "But when I do make them, I try to figure out why it is I have gone wrong, and how I might avoid it in the future. And then I think about that lesson very hard indeed."

Lord Richard nodded. "That is wise. You do not dwell on the mistake itself, then?"

"No, my lord. It is made, and I cannot change it."

When David looked up, Lord Richard's eyes had filled with relief. "I will endeavour to do the same, then. Thank you, Cyprian."

Well. If Mr Norreys was a mistake, then that was unfortunate for Lord Richard, of course. But David couldn't help the lightness in his heart, or the giddy grin that he felt in his teeth, though of course he did not let it show. He was the finest valet in London, and one did not reach that reputation by showing off when one had triumphed.

"It is my pleasure to serve, my lord," David said, "in any capacity which may please you." 

"Indeed, I am very pleased," Lord Richard said.

David met his eyes more directly than he was wont to do without invitation and found Lord Richard smiling his private smile. David could not help but return it in kind.

**Author's Note:**

> A note on some issues of canonicity:
> 
> David is supposed to have "found" Will and Jon for Richard's needs; elsewhere it is mentioned that Richard's protection helps them maintain their place. However, the Ruin of Gabriel Ashleigh mentions that Ash's first insult to Francis takes place at least five years before the Society of Gentleman books, at Quex's, and David has been working for Richard for less than five years during the series. I decided that, for the purposes of this story, it works best to believe that Quex's already existed, run by Jon and Will, but precariously, and David intervened to add the private rooms for Lord Richard's convenience and Jon and Will's greater prosperity, rather than that a whole new gambling hell was created just for Lord Richard's pleasure. (Plus, the latter would probably raise more questions.) 
> 
> Likewise, since David's mother was employed at Millay's, and Jon and Zoë were children there as well, I decided that David's relationship with the Shakespeares dates to when they were children even though that's not explicit in the books (to my memory).


End file.
